When You're Gone
by The Fabulous Space Horse
Summary: When you're gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you. A one shot Spamano fic based on the song When You're gone by Avril Lavigne


"Goodbye Roma," Spain patted the small boy's head, "Be good until I get back." Romano said nothing but, stared up at Spain, his eyes quivering a bit. Antonio turned and walked through the open door, his soldiers waiting outside. As the army began to march, Romano kept his eyes locked on the Spaniard's back. He watched until Antonio's form has disappeared completely. Lovino wiped his eyes and walked back into the empty house. His feet dragged as he made his way back to his bedroom. He paused when he passed Spain's room , and opened the door. The bed was unmade and there were dirty clothes scattered on the floor. Romano trudged over to Antonio's bed, and straightened out the sheets. Hesitantly, he grabbed one of the pillows and ran out, leaving the door swinging. The Italian felt tears burning his eyes as he slammed the door to his own room. He hugged the pillow to his chest and flopped down onto his bed. Before he could stop them salty tears ran down his cheeks and splashed down onto the sheets. "No. No crying," he scolded himself. Lovino didn't head to his own chastisement as sobs racked his small form. Eventually the tears stopped, leaving only ragged breath. He curled himself around Spain's pillow and his face salty and wet. 'Please be safe' Lovino thought as he drifted to sleep.

Romano woke the next morning groggy and irritated. He got out of bed, changed into a new set of clothes, and dragged Antonio's pillow with him as he walked to the Antonio's room. He ambled down the hallway, his stomach rumbling. When he got to the door of Spain's bedroom, he opened it slowly as though trying not to wake him. Lovino spoke quietly to the empty room, "I'm hungry." He sighed and walked out of the room again. The boy made his way to the kitchen where he saw a small plate of churros covered with a paper towel. 'Be sure to eat' a small note set next to the plate read. He grabbed a churro and began to eat it slowly. With every bite the knot in his stomach grew bigger and bigger. Romano placed the half eaten dessert back on the plate and left the kitchen. He wasn't hungry anymore.

Tears blocked the boy's throat once more but he swallowed them quickly enough. In an attempt to take his mind off of it, he decided to go out to the garden and pick some tomatoes. Romano grabbed a basket and made his way to the field full of fruit. The air was refreshing and the day wasn't to hot but, this didn't affect his mood at all. Lovino was stuck in a lull of loneliness. As he began picking the ripe tomatoes in Spain's garden, he felt the painful knot coming back. He picked a bright red fruit and stared at it. Romano thought he could just hear Antonio calling his boy smiled and ran out to the front of the house, abandoning the basket. He looked around desperately to catch a glimpse of the Spaniard. But, is mind was playing tricks on his. When Lovino realised he wasn't home, it felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He hugged himself and wailed, tears and snot dripping down his face. Romano cried and cried, the tears seemed endless. "Idiota! Stupid bastardo!" he screamed. He tore back inside and almost broke through the door to Antonio's room. He pushed all of the clothes scattered about the floor, into a big pile. Then the boy pulled a fresh shirt for Spain's closet and held it to his face. Romano fell back onto the pile, still crying softly.

Days even weeks passed and there was no sign of Antonio. Romano wandered the house aimlessly, too tired to do anything, in fear that he would start bawling again. With each passing day horrible thoughts plagued Lovino's mind, 'They've killed him. He's lost at sea. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead!' The knot in his stomach was as hard as concrete. It hurt to move, or even think. He slept and slept, his dreams of Spain's return swirling in infinite loop. But some of those dreams turned into nightmares. Antonio didn't return or even worse returned in a coffin. Romano woke from those dreams shaking. "He has to come back. He can't just leave me here all alone," the boy told himself. And he would drift back into dreamland.

Romano was woken one day by the sound of thousands of soldiers marching. He jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. The Spanish army advanced toward the house, their armour glowing in the late morning sun. Leading the pack was Antonio. Lovino shook with relief. 'He's home' he gripped at the bottom of his shirt as the soldiers made their way up the hill that the house sat on. "Roma!" Spain called to Lovino but, the boy's legs didn't move. He was shaking, almost crying. Antonio ran to Lovino as fast as he could. Romano stared up at Spain just as he had when he left. "I'm home," the Spaniard smiled down at the small Italian and opened his arms. Romano ran into Spain's outstretched arms and buried his face in his Antonio's chest.

"Welcome home, you jerk."

"I'm glad to be home Roma."


End file.
